The Lutheran Hour
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"Save Me"
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Text: John 12:27-28a
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Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed. The words of resurrection life the Holy Spirit shares today are filled with comfort. No matter what your present situation or circumstance, no matter how terror-filled your todays and tomorrows may be, a living Lord lets us know we can be at peace. Having defeated sin, death and the devil for us, Christ’s powerful presence empowers us to believe that, in Him, we have been given a divine destiny of deliverance and joy.
The boy was little when his mother passed away. Along with his grief, the father had to deal with the overwhelming task of trying to be both father and mother to his son. To that end, Dad planned a picnic. The day before the event father and son together picked their destination, packed the lunch, and loaded the car. Then, before getting an early start, it was time for a good night’s sleep–right? The boy couldn’t sleep. Excitement of what was to come kept him tossing, turning, and twisting as only a little boy can. Eventually, he got up, crept into dad’s room, and waited until father’s sleepy eye opened. “Son, what are you doing up at this hour?” I can’t get to sleep.” “Why can’t you get to sleep?” “Daddy, I can’t wait for tomorrow.” “Son, we’re going to have a great time. But it won’t be nearly as great if you don’t get some sleep first. Just go back to bed and try to turn off your mind. You’ll fall asleep.” The son did as dad suggested–for a while. Within 10 minutes, a freshly sleeping father felt himself being prodded and poked. “Dad, dad, are you awake?” “I am now, son.” “Dad, I wanted to say something before I go to sleep.” “And what did you need to say that won’t wait?” “Dad, I just wanted to thank you for tomorrow.”
I like that story. I like that boy. I like his thought: “Dad, I just wanted to thank you for tomorrow.” I like, it, but I wonder how many of us are ready to say, “Heavenly Father, thank You for tomorrow?” Think about it for a moment. Most of us are fearful of today and dreading what the rest of the week might bring. Maybe that’s why many people prefer to look backward and reminisce about “the good-old days.” You remember the good-old days–when nobody owned a purebred dog; a quarter was a decent allowance, and a second quarter meant great riches. We long for the good-old days when no one ever asked where the car keys were because they were always in the ignition, and good-old Besty’s doors were never locked. The good-old days were when you lay on your back on the grass with your friends, saying things like, “That cloud looks like Scotland” or “That one reminds me of an elephant.” We look back and remember when stuff from the store came without safety caps and hermetic seals because no one had ever thought of trying to poison a perfect stranger. We look back to the good-old days when the worst embarrassment we could suffer was to be picked last for a baseball team and water balloons were the ultimate weapon.
The truth is, with our selective memories, we only remember the good things from the past. Somehow, the bad and dark things of yesteryear get dimmer with the passing of time. It’s human nature to look at the past for security and serenity. The future, our tomorrows, well, those things are unknown. They’re scary. You don’t want to go there. For Christians and non-Christians, the quicksand of the indefinite is intimidating. Tomorrow is anybody’s guess. Nobody knows what the next day will hold, but most of us are willing to gamble that it won’t be good. That’s why, if we were given our druthers, most of us would go back to the past rather than run into the future. The only exception to that rule I can think of is children. Children can’t wait for tomorrow. Maybe that’s part of what Jesus meant when He said we should have the faith of a little child. At any rate, few of us have that absolute trust in our Father, and fewer of us are ready to say, “Father, thank you for tomorrow.”
If you search through Scripture, you will find a fair number of folks who really did have it better in the “good-old days.” Adam and Eve surely could be counted as ones who might feel that way. Their “good-old days” were in the perfection of God’s garden. No tomorrow for them could ever compare with the good-old days (Genesis 3:22-25). As Cain wandered the earth, marked for the murder of his brother, he might have longed for the good-old days (Genesis 4:10-16). When Noah stepped out of the Ark and surveyed the mess, I imagine he had mixed feelings. Before, his neighbors were top notch sinners. After the flood, he had no neighbors at all (Genesis 7:21-8:21). As Joseph languished in Pharaoh’s prison, forgotten and betrayed, he could be forgiven if his memories floated back to more pleasant times in his father’s tent (Genesis 39-40). When King David heard of the death of his favorite son, the ambitious Absalom, he might have looked backward (2 Samuel 18:33). I could mention blind Samson slaving in the mills of the Philistines (Judges 16:21). I could talk about the children of Israel who returned from captivity and found Solomon’s grand temple reduced to rubble (Ezra 3:12). Yes, the Bible is filled with people, including God’s people, who might well have yearned for the good-old days.
Even Jesus, God’s Son, our suffering Savior, in the days preceding His sacrificial death, seemed somewhat distressed about His future. He admits to having a troubled heart concerning His tomorrows. To many that would seem quite a contrast from the Jesus that boldly set His face toward His death (Luke 9:51). Remember, already at the age of 12, after He spoke with the learned leaders in the temple, He acknowledged He had to be doing the Father’s business (Luke 2:49). When He faced Satan in the wilderness, Jesus had been absolutely fearless (Mark 1:13). He had been calm when His boyhood neighbors tried to kill Him (Luke 4:28-30). He had been shrewd and smart when He matched minds with those who actively tried to trick and entrap Him (Mark 12:13-17). He was patient when He dealt with His fearful disciples (Matthew 8:26). Anyone who reads the Gospels comes away with the feeling that Jesus was unshakable, unflappable, unwavering. Throw a storm at Him, He calms it. Give Him a demoniac, He frees him (Mark 1:34). Send some lepers to Him, He heals them with a word (Luke 17:12-14). Even death, the ultimate test of His strength, goes down to defeat before His omnipotent word (Luke 7:11-14).
But now, with His Father-decreed destiny forthcoming, Jesus’ heart is troubled. You can’t fault Him for that. Jesus, knowing all, sees what His tomorrows will bring. He sees the kiss of betrayal from a disciple. He sees Himself, deserted by His friends and arrested by His enemies. He sees the travesty trials He will endure. He sees the slaps and the scourge; the spit and the suffering. He knows about the crown of thorns and the terrible taunts, which will be directed against Him. Little wonder He discloses, “Now my heart is troubled.” The following week, in the Garden of Gethsemane, He would give voice to that trouble that burdened His heart so heavily. He would plead, “Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from Me” (Matthew 26:39). But this day, He only asks, “What shall I say, ‘Father save Me from this hour?'” If we had been Jesus, we would not have been so nice or noble. We would have asked–no, we would have demanded–that the Father straighten things out and take us back to the good-old days. We would say: “This is not fair. This is not right. The innocent should not be punished for the guilty.” We would say, “Heavenly Father, it might be OK if people would appreciate what I’m going to endure for them, but they won’t.” We would say, “Father, if I have to die for these sinners, then let it be a quick and merciful ending. Don’t make me suffer this cruel and inhuman punishment.” And all of us, every one of us, would have wanted to go back to the “good-old days.” We would have longed for those warm, summer days when the fishing was good and the friends were fun. We would have thought about the laughter at a supper table and a sweet, scarlet sunset. Those would be our good-old days. For Jesus, the good-old days would have been a return to His perfect throne in a perfect heaven, where, day and night, He received perfect praise from the heavenly host. We join with Jesus in having troubled hearts. We join Jesus in a desire to avoid terrible tomorrows. We join Jesus in wondering, “What shall I say, ‘Father, save me from this hour?'”
Up to this point, up to the point of asking His question, we understand Jesus. He’s one of us. He wants to walk away from dark tomorrows. But after Jesus asks the question, He takes a different path, a divine Savior’s path which separates Him from us. While we would try to avoid our terrible tomorrows by steadily gazing backward at the golden, good-old days, Jesus looked forward. Jesus answered His own question. Jesus said, “No. I won’t ask to be saved from this hour. I’m going to suffer. I’m going to die. I’m going to willingly endure inhuman hatred and unjust pain. I’m going to carry every sin committed by every man, every woman and every child in every century.” By that, my friends, He means your sin and mine. Jesus says, “I’m going to give up everything I am so that sinful souls can be saved. I am going to be led, without complaining, to the cross, so anyone and everyone who believes in Me as Savior, will be rescued. I accept My destiny so that My Father might be glorified.”
And then, Jesus concludes, “It is for this reason I was born.” To die so that you might live was Jesus’ destiny. It is my prayer that His sacrifice for you has not gone unnoticed, unrecognized, unappreciated, unapplauded, and, most of all, unbelieved. It was the heavenly Father’s desire that Jesus’ blood would be shed to save you from yourself. The Christ’s destiny is to die, so you might have a new destiny–a destiny of joy in Jesus. If He is not your destiny, if you are not sure of your salvation, today is the day to let God sweep away everything posing a problem to His grace.
Jesus was born so you might never die. Jesus was murdered so your tomorrows might not be filled with terror. In Him–and you have no other reason to believe me other than the Holy Spirit is pulling your heart to believe these words–the dark and dismal days that loom ahead of you can truly be transformed. Believe this as you believe nothing else. Hold to this with all your heart. If you do, you can be assured that the good-old days are not all in the past. The best of days, the best of eternity, will be yours through Jesus’ selfless sacrifice.
Two men moved down the main boulevard of a town. Both were blind. One of the men groped along, his face twisted in dread, hand outstretched in wild motions of search, his feet shuffling, and his white cane tapping in wild motions of exploration. The other blind man strode along, his white cane tapped lightly before him as he went. His head was high. One walker and one groper. It is true, the walker may stumble and may get bruised. He may carry a scar from having bumped into a table a day or so ago. He may do so again. But he will stand up and keep on going. If he trips on a broken sidewalk, he will stand up and go. The groper, afraid of the unknown, with so many questions and reservations, will not move far. He sees only disaster and can, at best, only shuffle along. For both of them, the darkness is alike. Neither can see what lies ahead. But the difference in the lives they lead–oh, what a difference.
All of us in this world, believers and unbelievers alike, are blind. None of us knows what is in front of us and what tomorrow will bring. But some of us, with Jesus as our Savior, are able to live life rather than just endure it. Christians don’t know what the future holds, but they DO know their Lord holds the future. They know a God who loves them so much that He was willing to sacrifice His Son for their salvation is not going to walk away from them. He is not going to desert them. He is not going to play cruel and nasty jokes on them. He is not going to change His mind and one morning decide to hate them, and make their existence as miserable as He can.
No. Christians know they are in the hands of a loving Father. They may not always understand why He allows things to happen to them. They may not always be able to figure out where He is leading them. But they know His hand is a loving hand. When they are afraid, His arms are the place to which they run. When things seem dark, His presence is what they seek. When they are sad, He may not take away their cause for sadness, but He will comfort them by sharing their pain. The knowledge that “God is love” makes all the difference in how Christians approach their unknown tomorrows.
During the days of World War II, the populace of London was frequently awakened from sleep and hurried to bomb shelters. Not knowing what tomorrow or even tonight might hold, made the nerves of many as taut as piano wire. But one old man stood out from the norm. Those who observed such things noticed he seemed to have a sense of calmness, almost serenity, during his frequent appearances in the underground sanctuary. When asked how he managed to be at such peace, the man replied, “Well, every night I say my prayers and I remember how the parish parson told us God is always watching, so I go to sleep. After all, there’s no need for both of us to stay awake!” That man got it. The terrors of tomorrow cannot hurt someone who is in the hands of a loving Father.
All of us in this world, believers and unbelievers alike, are blind. None of us knows what tomorrow will bring. But Christians know, with Jesus as their Savior, will be delivered from their pain and problems. Christians may not know what the future holds, but they do know the Lord holds their destiny and their deliverance in His hands. They know the hands of a loving Lord will, according to His gentle will, deliver them forward. Now, that’s important. God delivers us forward. When Adam and Eve wanted to go back to the good-old days, God delivered them forward with the promise of a Savior. When the children of Israel were in the wilderness complaining about food, water, shelter, and enemies they said, “We want to go back to Egypt.” God delivered them, but not back to the land of slavery. God delivered them forward to the Promised Land of milk and honey. When Jesus knelt in the Garden of Gethsemane praying that His cup of suffering might be removed, the Father strengthened Him with the ministrations of an angel. But the message was clear. God said, “My Son, You will not go back. You will not retreat. You will move forward and by Your suffering and sorrow, by Your pain and power, hurting hearts will be healed; sinful souls will be saved.” And so it was. The Father’s will was done.
The next day as Jesus hung on the cross between two dying thieves, one of them said, “Jesus, save Yourself and us. Get me down. I want to go back. Let me go back to my stealing, my murdering, my good-old days.” To such a request, Jesus said nothing. His silence was clear: “I will not take you back. You cannot go back to your life of sinfulness.” But to the thief who, in repentance and faith said, “Jesus, remember me when You enter into Your kingdom,” the Savior replied: “Today, I say to you most truly, you shall be with Me in paradise” (Luke 23: 39-43). That’s the power of Jesus. Even to a man without hope. Even to a man who was dying, Jesus provided deliverance. Forward in rescue; forward in relief; forward in release.
It is that same forward force, motivated by His powerful grace, that the Lord continues to give to His church, and to all who believe in Jesus. In Jesus, tomorrows can be tremendous, not terrible.
This past weekend I had the opportunity to speak to my friends at Christ Lutheran Church in Yuma, Arizona. Great people–great weather. It felt great to catch some sun, so I put on my shorts and took my laptop computer poolside. Now, that’s probably not a pretty picture, but forget it. Instead, I would like you to see what I saw. I watched a father carry his son to the deep end of the pool. “Six feet deep,” was painted there–way too deep for the boy. At any rate, with his boy held in front of him, dad jumped into the deep water. A few seconds later they surfaced. The son was not crying but laughing and brushing water from his face. The father guided him safely to the side of the pool. That’s the kind of heavenly Father we have. We don’t know how deep things are. We can’t swim it on our own. But we are in His hands. And we are safe. With that safety which comes through the Savior, we can say, “Father, thank you for tomorrow.” Amen.
LUTHERAN HOUR MAILBOX (Questions & Answers) for April 6, 2003
ANNOUNCER: Have you ever looked at your circumstances and wondered if God was trying to tell you something? If so, stay tuned as we talk with Dr. Reed Lessing from Concordia Seminary. I’m Mark Eischer. Dr. Lessing, how should we respond to difficult circumstances such as adversity, financial reversals, conflict or illness. Is God trying to tell us something?
LESSING: I believe so, Mark. The idea would maybe be best expressed in Ecclesiastes chapter 7, “When times are good, be happy. But when times are bad, consider God has made one as well as the other.” In the book of Amos, chapter 4, God indicates He is indeed sending difficult circumstances, so that the people would turn to Him. God says, “I gave you empty stomachs in every city and lack of bread in every town, yet you have not returned to Me declares the Lord.”
ANNOUNCER: In the case of Amos, he was speaking to a nation but there was something special about them, wasn’t there?
LESSING: Oh, exactly. We wouldn’t want to refer the Amos 4 promises of God in terms of what he’s sending and the calling of people to repentance to just any nation, even the United States. That is to say, this is intended for the church today–this call of repentance that Amos is sounding forth.
ANNOUNCER: In other words, God’s speaking to His people then, His chosen people, and God is speaking to His church, His chosen people today.
LESSING: Right. So the Israel of the Old Testament is certainly the church of the New Testament.
ANNOUNCER: Are bad times a sign of God’s disfavor?
LESSING: There can be examples where bad times would be God’s disfavor of a particular lifestyle that we have chosen, an attitude, a type of habit we have formed. On the other hand, the bad times may not be a sign of God’s disfavor. For example, in Philippians 1, St. Paul says, “It’s been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on Him, but also to suffer for Him.
ANNOUNCER: Would you say that good times are a sign of God’s favor?
LESSING: I think many of our listeners are familiar with the verse from Matthew 5 where Jesus says in His Sermon on the Mount: “He causes His Son to rise on the evil and the good and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” Perhaps our listeners are fully confused. How do I understand what’s going on in my life? Is it to use the great scriptural doctrines of Law and Gospel? Is this a law in terms of bad times or is this Gospel in terms of a sign of God’s love that I’m actually going through this particular tragedy or nightmare in my life? Our Lutheran forefathers indicated it’s easy to divide Law and Gospel on paper or in textbooks, but to do that in the Christian life, one deserves the title of doctor of theology.
ANNOUNCER: And it was said that a person only acquires this skill in the school of experience by the power of the Holy Spirit.
LESSING: Exactly.
ANNOUNCER: Again, where should we look to find a clear statement of God’s intentions and purposes for our lives?
LESSING: This Scripture is absolutely clear. In 1 Thessalonians 4, the apostle says, “It is God’s will that you should be sanctified.” God isn’t interested in happiness, in material and financial blessings, as much as He’s interested in our Holiness and our life of service by using these gifts to serve our neighbor and our fellow human being.
ANNOUNCER: We’ve been talking with Dr. Reed Lessing from Concordia Seminary in St. Louis. The next Lutheran Hour message is titled, “A Shout for the Savior.”